


You're Trying (and Failing) to Wear Your Heart Under Your Sleeves

by BringBackMaes14



Category: Magi: Adventure of Sinbad (Anime), Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: All the generals ship it, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Not so secret crush, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Frustration, Sinbad knows, Smut, especially pisti and yamraiha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BringBackMaes14/pseuds/BringBackMaes14
Summary: Ja'far is past crushing. He is in love with Sinbad. He doesn't want Sinbad to know because Sinbad likes women, and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship or their work. Sinbad knows about Ja'far's feelings, but he's kind of an ass. He's waiting for Ja'far to make the first move





	1. Work to Forget Your Feelings

It was nearing one in the morning. The sky was dotted with stars, and there was a slightly chilly breeze blowing through an open window near Ja'far's desk. The king and Ja'far's subordinates had long since retired to their rooms, leaving the workroom and most of palace hallways empty. The general was still at his desk, hiding behind a pile of scrolls. He was known to overwork, but it was usually out of his OCD tendencies or a sense of duty. This was different. Ja'far was working to keep his mind busy. Working under Sinbad was difficult for two reasons: one, he was immature and hard to keep on task, and two, Ja'far found himself wanting to literally  _ work under  _ the man. 

He wanted to run his fingers through his wild purple hair, and have those enchanting amber eyes to only focus on him. Of course, Ja'far hated that he felt this way. It had started as a sense of devotion when he was a teenager, but then Sinbad started growing taller and more muscular. More handsome. Ja'far thought he was just experiencing a childish crush, but it's been four years, and it's getting harder by the day to keep hidden. Maybe he was rusty. As a former assassin, Ja'far had the ability to devoid himself of emotion or desire, anything that could hurt or distract him from his mission. He wasn't able to do that with this situation though, and his inability frustrated him.

So he sat there, working on document after document with only the light from a candle that was nearly melted away. He was beyond tired, his back ached, and his eyes were unfocused, but he continued reading. He had his full attention on a tax form, when the door opened, revealing the king. Ja'far didn't notice him until strong, jewel-decorated hands were on either side of his current document. He yelped in surprise, and frantically looked around the room to avoid eye contact with the man leaning over him. "Oh! Sin! I didn't hear you come in." Ja'far stuttered.

"How unusual." Sinbad commented. "It's odd for you to not be aware of your surroundings. When was the last time you slept?" 

Ja'far finally looked forward, only to see the king's face mere inches from his own. His face bloomed red at the closeness, and he only stared at the man. He studied the sharp lines that made up Sinbad's beautiful face, and the way his unkempt ponytail framed it nicely. He longed to hear the sounds the man might make if he placed his arms around his neck and tugged his mane with desperate fingers. He admired the broadness of the shoulders and strong arms leering over him, ones that he longed to have cage him over his mattress. He almost moaned when his gaze traced back up to Sinbad's fiery eyes, and remembered he had been asked a question.

"Oh, um. The last time I slept isn't really all that important. There's too much work to do, and if you don't do it, then someone has to. Of course there's plenty of other documents that don't necessarily need your approval. So, really, who has time for sleep?"

Sinbad let on a little smirk at his advisor's nervous rambling. "You won't be doing your country any favors if you collapse from exhaustion, or worse, an illness." Ja'far slumped in his chair, avoiding eye contact with the man before him. He hated that the man was right, but he couldn't stand laying in bed, where his thoughts and fantasies had the opportunity to devour him.

"I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me." The general pouted.

"I don't think so." Sinbad leaned closer to Ja'far, enough so that the younger man could feel his breath on his lips. "Don't make me take you to bed forcefully." Ja'far knew the king just meant forcing him to sleep, but the implications of his statement had the blood leaving the general's rosy cheeks, and flooding somewhere much more dangerous that was already betraying him..

"On second thought," Ja'far announced, standing quickly with his sleeves covering his midsection, "you're right. I'm going to go to bed right now. It's late. I've done enough. Goodnight, your majesty." And he charged out of the room before Sinbad could say or do anything else.

He practically ran back to his room, where he shoved his door closed, and collapsed against it. Ja'far was quick to throw his clothes off and flop onto his bed. The room was quiet except for the man's heavy panting and the sheets that twisted under his writhing body. The bed was cool against his overwhelmed body. Ja'far couldn't pull Sinbad's face from his mind, and the way his features glowed in the candlelight. He rut against the mattress and moaned into his pillow, wondering if his king had slept with any men before, and if what the women who swarmed and praised him said was truthful. 

The sheets were becoming sticky with sweat and precum. He pushed himself back onto his knees, shoving his face into his pillow, almost suffocatingly so. One of his hands drew up to his erection, squeezing and tugging, while the other traced back to his twitching hole. 

Ja'far had slept with one or two women before, but he didn't just pick up random women; he had had to know them well. That wasn't long after he started realizing his attraction towards Sinbad. The women were mostly distractions (and partially because Sinbad thought it might help the general loosen up some). He realized not long after that escapade that women didn't do a whole lot for him; he very much preferred men. Of course, he hasn't acted on that yet, but he dreamed nearly every night of his king filling him to the brim, pushing him down into the mattress, and whispering his name.

Ja'far's only substitute at the moment was his fingers, which were almost too slim to apply the pressure he so desperately needed to push himself over the edge. His moans increased in volume when he managed to find that special nerve inside himself. "Shit…. Ngh- Sin Sin Sin. Please." His hand was slick and moving faster over his length, trying to find that release he craved so badly. A perfect brush across his prostate and his thumb over his weeping head set him off, completely soiling his sheets. The king's name fell from his lips in pleads and praises like he was there and could hear them. Ja'far realized how loud he might of been, and hoped to the gods that no one, especially his desired partner, had heard his cries.

He decided he was too exhausted to think too much about it at the moment, and only focused on cleaning himself and avoiding laying in the filth he put out before sleep took him over. 


	2. Sinbad Does His Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if Sinbad actually does his work, Ja'far will be nicer to him. Or not.

When Ja'far woke the next morning, he hurried to clean his room up, lest someone decide to barge in and find evidence of his defiling activities. After dressing, and wrapping his sheets in such a way that the maids couldn't see the stain and embarrass him, he left to start his work.

The sun had only begun to rise and the halls were empty. This was part of why he was willing to get up so early. He loved how quiet the palace could be while everyone slept, before there was alcohol, slackers, experiments, and fights. Ja'far shook his head and chuckled into his sleeves. He worked with some insane people, but he loved the company of them all (most of the time). 

Masrur was still somewhat intimidating even after all these years, but he was a wonderful listener and willing to lend an ear when Ja'far just needed to vent. Yamraiha was immensely talented, but she had a crazy temper, especially when Sharrkan was around. It's not hard to tell that they're meant to be together, Sinbad and all the generals have agreed on that. All of the others were pretty low-key in Ja'far's book, except for maybe Hinahoho, who has always been a sort of overbearing big brother to him. 

Ja'far was dragged from his thoughts when he ran into something. He looked up and panicked. That something was his king. "Are you okay, Ja'far? That's the second time I've caught you so lost in your head that you didn't notice me. I'm wounded." Sinbad pouted. "Do you need to take the day off?"

Ja'far was still frozen with his mouth hanging open. This was getting ridiculous. He took a deep breath, gathering his composure back. "If I take the day off, no work will get done. You and I both know that this palace and this country would crumble without me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some scrolls from last night I need to tend to." He hurriedly shoved pass the taller man, not particularly caring how rude he was.

Sinbad stood in the hall dumbfounded. He knew his advisor was right, he wasn't exactly a workaholic like him, but Ja'far was one for threats, not hurtful bluntness. Concerned for his general, Sinbad started heading towards the office. "Maybe if I get more work done than usual, he'll be more open with me. Or at least nicer." He pondered.

He was mistaken. Upon reaching the office he shared with Ja'far, Sinbad saw the man sitting at his desk, doing far too many things at once as per usual. "Hey, Ja'far. I-"

"There's a stack of documents on your desk I need you to look through, approve and sign." Ja'far didn't even look up from his work as he continued. "You are also expected to write a letter of thanks to the eighth princess of the Kou Empire, her highness Ren Kougyoku, for her meeting with us here in Sindria. I am to meet with Yamraiha within the hour to go over our defense systems. I will be in and out of meetings for the rest of the day after that." Ja'far's head rose, and his eyes were threateningly void and dark. "I expect everything to be done by the time everyone meets for dinner. You got that, Sin?"

Sinbad was scared. But he nodded and put on one of his signature smirks. He didn't even want to think about what might happen to him if he defied Ja'far's demands. He shivered when the younger man's face lit up with a smile, and warm tone thanked him for his cooperation. This was terrifying for the king. Where were all of these mood flips and threats coming from? Did he do something? Did some other unlucky bastard piss him off, and he just happened to be taking the brunt of it? He had an idea of the cause, but it was too risky to ask about. At least right now.

So Sinbad sat down and got to work. Tax form, tax form, new law, supplies request, trade demographics, another new law, a complaint from a shopkeep. He had to remember that this was all a part of his dream, to make a country that united people and lived without war, but he hadn't really thought about all the paperwork included when he was 14 years old and conquering his first dungeon. The stack of papers seemed larger every time he looked up to grab a new item, which he knew wasn't true. Probably. The king shoved the pile aside so he could change pace and start his letter to the Princess. He'd barely written two words before his thoughts left his work and wandered back to Ja'far. 

"Defense meeting." Sinbad chuckled to himself. "I wonder what would happen if Ja'far's defenses dropped." He started doodling the general on a document before realizing how angry that would make him. The sun had begun to set when Sinbad finally finished his work. From the sound of the bustling in the halls, dinner would most likely be ready in a few minutes. He raised from his desk and stretched his back. "I don't know how Ja'far manages to sit for that long every day."

The king made his way to the door, which opened before he could reach for it, revealing a surprised general. "Oh, Sin! I was just about to retrieve you for dinner. Did you… did you actually get all of your work done in the time I gave you!?" Though slightly wounded at Ja'far's underestimation of him, he smiled cheekily and gestured to his neatly organized desk.

"Sure did." Sinbad smirked, and his voice dropped an octave. "Do I get a reward?" 

"R-reward?" The younger man stuttered. The king's question had such a devious undertone, Ja'far felt a blush creeping up his cheeks even while his brows furrowed in frustration. "No, yo-your majesty. I will not reward behavior that should be shown on a daily basis." He turned on his heel before Sinbad could pull one of his faces that either made him give in or made his knees buckle. "Now, let's head to the dining hall. I'm sure the other generals are already there."


	3. Dinner and Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a really short chapter to get us from dinner to the bedroom. Ja'far wants to sit in the king's lap during dinner too. But he can't. So he leaves.

Dinner was stressful for Ja'far. There was always so much noise, and too many people. Specifically,  _ the entertainment _ . Ja'far enjoyed the women who danced in the room or on the stage; they were definitely talented, and he had to admit they were beautiful too. It was another story with the dancers and other women who clung to the king. The ones he just  _ let  _ cling to him. 

It drove Ja'far mad, but what could he do? Shove them away? Yell at Sinbad (he already does that)? Tell the truth? Definitely not the last one. It was also infuriating because as head general, and closest friend of the king, Ja'far was expected to eat side by side with him. This meant sitting two feet from his crush covered in a pile of half naked girls. While they were trying to eat. And Sinbad held conversation like it nothing was out of the ordinary.

Today was one of those days that happened maybe once or twice a year. One of those days where he just couldn't stand to see it. He'd been in meetings all day, and whether Sinbad realized it or not (he was probably oblivious, which made Ja'far even more furious), his teasing had gone too far. So he slipped away. He discarded his half empty plate and left the room with the stealth of an assassin, unnoticed. Or so he thought.

~~~~~~~~

Sinbad knew something was wrong with Ja'far. He felt the heat of his glare through their entire meal, and it didn't seem like one his normal death stares. And eventually he just up and left, not even finishing his food. This, Sinbad knew, was something the former assassin rarely did. He was hiding, or rather, he was hiding something, and Sin was going to drag it out of him. 

  
The girls surrounding him whined as he attempted to get up from the table. All the general’s eyes were on him as he stood. A few of them had noticed Ja’far leave in a rush, and figured the king wouldn’t be long after him. “It’s been a long day for me.” Sinbad directed. “If you’ll please excuse me, I’m going to retire early tonight.” There were a few murmurs of “sure” or “whatever” and Pisti and Yamraiha could be seen huddled together whispering excitedly about Sinbad-probably-knows what. He strode from the room, denying every girl that asked to assist him to bed. The king took a deep breath and began making his way to Ja’far’s quarters. He  **would** solve this problem.


	4. Solving the problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinbad goes after Ja'far. And then #SexyTimes

Ja’far paced in his room, deciding what to do. He couldn’t hide forever, even with his skills of deceit. He couldn’t talk about his problem with anyone. It’d be too embarrassing, especially if he went to Pisti, Yamraiha, or even Sharrkan, who would definitely blab all over the castle. The general pulled his keffiyeh off and threw it to the ground with a frustrated grunt. His grunt became a yell when he heard his bedroom door open behind him. “I thought I asked to be left alone for the night! That means maids, guards, the other generals, everyone!”

The door clicked shut and Ja’far thought he was alone, before he heard, “Does that include your king?” He tensed and panicked. The room was dim. The only light came from the moon, and a candle on the general’s desk. Nonetheless, he could clearly see the outline of Sinbad when he found the nerve to turn around. “I want you to tell me what’s going on Ja’far. It’s obvious you’re dealing with something, and as per usual, you won’t let anybody help.”

Ja’far scoffed at the older man’s request, although he had been right. “It has nothing to do with you. Just leave and go back to your women.” It had slipped out before Ja’far could catch himself. He was definitely in deep shit now.

“I will not leave.” Sinbad claimed, coming forward, almost chest-to-chest with the smaller man. “It very much has something to do with me. You glare at me. You avoid me. You spent all day in meetings, and you hate meetings! You prefer working on your own because you’re afraid everyone else will do it wrong. What did I do, Ja’far!?”

“Shut up. You don’t know anything.”

“You’re right, Ja’far! I don’t know anything! And I will continue not knowing unless you-” That was enough talking. Ja’far’s composure flew out the window. He took the situation into his own hands, forcing Sinbad’s lips to meet his own by tugging on his shirt. He relished the closeness he had in that moment, but pulled back when the contact was not reciprocated. The younger man stepped back and hid in his sleeves. When he peeked through his fingers, he saw Sinbad standing, arms crossed with a smirk on his face and starstruck eyes.

“You bastard!” Ja’far yelled. “You knew! This whole time! And you’ve just been teasing and throwing yourself around and making me suffer!”

“Ah ah ah.” Sinbad waved a finger at the other man. “ _ You  _ stood around making  _ yourself  _ suffer. I wanted you to come to me, rather than the usual ‘I flirt with you and you think I’m teasing so you push me away’ stuff. I didn’t want to  _ force _ you.”

“Force?”

Ja’far suddenly found himself pinned against the wall, with large hands gripping tightly at his hips. The taller man moved in so close that he could feel his breath on his neck. “Do you know how hard it is to restrain myself, Ja’far?” The general’s knees buckled when Sinbad bit down under his ear. “To hear you, in your room, moaning my name. What do you imagine when you say my name? Because let me tell you, I cum almost every time.” 

The king brought his knee up between the smaller man’s legs, happy to find he was just as hard as he was. Ja’far whimpered and moaned at the friction and the confession. He moved again to pull Sinbad down by his shirt, and he eagerly participated this time. It was so much and too little all at once. The kiss was soft but it was harsh, and then Sinbad was nipping at his lip, begging for entrance. The general opened his lips and was greeted with a grunt from the taller man. He loved the taste of him. He couldn’t get enough, and then Sinbad was moving down across his neck, and rocking their hips together. 

It had to be a dream. Ja’far never wanted to wake up because there was no way possible that this was happening. His king loved women, and women loved him. That’s the way it had always been, and now the womanizer of the seven seas was in his room, grinding against him… He pulled himself from the kiss, and glanced away. “I want to have you.” 

“What’d you think it was gonna stop with a kiss? Of course, we’re gonna-”

“No!” Ja’far retorted, his blush deepening, if that was possible. “I want to have you all to myself. It’s, well… it’s a selfish request, but I wish that from now on, you’re mine alone.”

It took him a moment, but Sinbad grinned with a blush of his own. “I think I can arrange that.” Ja’far socked the taller man in the shoulder for his smartass remark, but he reached up to kiss him once again. His hands went over Sinbad’s shoulders, brushing through his hair and pulling lightly. The stunted groan that came from the man spurred Ja’far on even further, but Sinbad had other plans. 

He picked up his partner and swung him gently onto the bed. His hands worked their way up and under the younger man’s robes, and Ja’far pressed his scarred legs together. “Don’t hide from me, because I have a selfish request as well: I want everything from you, the good and the bad, all your time and attention, everything from the freckles on your face to the scars on your legs. Please, let me have it.” Sinbad raised Ja’far’s leg and kissed his calf, up to his knee. Ja’far was a bit surprised at his king’s confession, and pulled him up from his legs to meet his face. 

“Of course.” He replied, and began a new type of kiss with his lover. One that was still very much fiery and desperate, but it came with a newfound passion too. He sat up and began wiggling out of his robes, never breaking the kiss. Sinbad sat back to admire the pale skin, waiting to be marked, and then there were hands running up under his shirt, trying to get it off. He helped himself out of it, and then Ja’far’s hands were tracing over his pecs and torso. He almost lost himself then and there when the younger man stopped his roaming and laid back on the mattress, just exposing himself fully. He was just so beautiful, spread out and glowing in the moonlight.

He wasted no time in going for the main attraction, licking over the head and watching for Ja’far’s reaction. The younger man tensed and panted, writhing as the king slowly took in more and more, until he could feel him at the back of his throat. Sinbad kept eye contact as he stroked up and down with his tongue. The general could do little more than cry out and grip his purple mane like his life depended on it. He was so close, he could feel it coming, and then the heat was gone. He groaned in frustration as Sinbad left the bed, but then he returned and there was a slick finger pushing at his entrance. 

He moaned loudly, trying to muffle himself in his hand. The king pulled Ja’far’s hands over his head with one hand, the other working its way into his surprisingly loose hole. “I said everything. I want to have every word and sound that comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours.” Ja’far nodded quickly in response. His eyes were squeezed shut, his nose scrunched up just a little, and his mouth fell open, releasing a desperate groan. The king smiled and added a second finger, curling and twisting them to see what other sounds he could get Ja’far to make. Still pumping in and out, he leaned over the smaller man and kissed over his neck, sucking dark bruises just low enough that Ja’far wouldn’t kill him in the morning. He continued marking his way down until he could lick over the general’s nipple. His free hand found the other nub and twisted it the same as he twisted his third finger into the moaning man below him. The smaller man was in heaven, and moved his hips down to meet the blissful burn Sinbad was providing. His movements slid their erections together, and Ja’far came unexpectedly with a shout.

Ja’far opened his eyes and stared up bashfully, but before he could say anything, Sinbad moved his mouth down further, collecting some of the mess on his tongue. He greedily licked his lips, and Ja’far moaned at the sight and at the overstimulation of the fingers still pushing in and out of him. “Fuck, Sin. You’re so hot.”

The king looked up with with raging golden eyes. “Watch your mouth, Ja’far, or I may have to punish you.” 

The promise that he knew was fully intended this time had Ja’far melting and hardening under the man. “Fuck… Please Sin, I’m begging you. Please punish me. Please.” And then the man pulled away, showing a smirk on his face that said Ja’far was in for trouble, and might not be able to get out of bed tomorrow, but he didn’t care. 

“Very well.” The older man whispered. The snap of his hips into the general was so forceful it rattled the bed frame. Ja’far hadn’t even realized the king had removed his fingers. His pace was relentless, and still it seemed as if he was holding back. Ja’far’s hands scrambled over the sheets, moving until he found his way up the king’s back, pulling at his hair once again. The noise that Sinbad made could only be described as thunderous, and Ja’far wanted to hear it again and again. He tugged at his hair and around his neck until their lips met in a kiss that was much more loving than the erratic pistoning of Sinbad’s hips. 

And suddenly Ja’far was lifted up and the king was in his spot, watching in awe of the smaller man’s reaction to the new position and angle. He was almost sobbing between moans. There was too much pressure in his backside and it felt great. Bouncing on the king’s lap, being watched like he was the most precious thing in the world, and then Sinbad grinned and snapped his hips up, jabbing directly into his prostate. The world shattered and went dark around him. Sinbad’s hips kept moving up into him even as he painted their stomachs for a second time. He tried to keep his eyes open, watching as the man he loved found his released and shouted his name. It was a beautiful sight. 

Sinbad was then cleaning them off and pulling the covers up over themselves. Ja’far huddled into his chest, kissing it gently, and up his neck until his lips met his king’s. “That was amazing… I’m sorry, about all of well… everything and thank you and I’m happy and I-”

Sinbad smiled wearily at his cute nervous rambling. “It’s okay Ja’far. I love you too.”


	5. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little epilogue. It's mostly dialogue. Sinbad is a sweetie that likes puns.

When Ja’far woke up, the bed was empty, but still warm. He frowned, thinking maybe it was a one time thing. The sun was risen in the sky. He rolled to swaddle himself further in the covers and winced at the sore feeling (that actually wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be) in his backside. “Yeah… I’m not getting out of bed today.” He said to himself.

“It’s a miracle then. Maybe if we do that more often, you won’t run yourself so thin.” Ja’far frowned, somewhat shocked, as Sinbad made his way into the room and shut the door behind him. He was carrying a tray with him: breakfast for two. “How are you feeling today?” The king kissed him on the forehead and handed him a plate of ham and eggs.

“What time is it?”

“One, it’s almost noon, and two, don’t avoid the question.”

“What!? Why didn’t anyone wake me up? It’s so late.”

“You said you weren’t getting out of bed today.” Sinbad stated, shoving a spoonful of eggs into Ja’far’s mouth.

“But!”

“No buts! Now answer me. How are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine. I’m happy. I’m well rested and, uh…” Ja’far shoved another spoonful of eggs into his mouth to muffle the rest of his answer. Sinbad crossed his arms disapprovingly, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“And um, I’m really hard.” Sinbad was not expecting that, but he wasn’t about to turn down an invitation for morning fun times with his lover.

“Okay.” Sinbad grinned, sliding their plates away and pushing Ja’far back down into the mattress. “Maybe just one butt.” 


End file.
